The Heart of the Lost Star (Tales of the High Court Book 3)

by Megan Derr

  The patio itself stretched out over a semi-private garden far below, and his favorite spot to relax, on the rare occasion he was able, was the hammock he'd strung on a special stand that rested right at the edge. He could look around and down at other parts of the palace, or look out at the sea and distant clouds. Nothing was better than the exceedingly rare occasion he got to lie there and watch a storm roll in.

  "What a view," Kamir said from behind him and, after Jader beckoned him close, joined him at the wall. "I thought I had a nice suite, but the imperial wing is even grander than is rumored."

  Jader grinned. "Trust me, most of the rooms are less over the top. I told you: I'm vain and like to be surrounded by pretty things. I spent far more money than I'm willing to admit making this suite feel a little bit like home. Sarrica was exceedingly generous in permitting me the patio; it's something suites in the imperial wing aren't usually allowed to have, given the security risks. But he allowed it because there is no way to access it that would not be seen—assuming the intruders didn't simply die trying, since it's a long drop no matter what direction you pick."

  "It's beautiful," Kamir said softly, smiling shyly before turning to stare at the sea. "I suspect you don't get to enjoy this view as often as you'd like."

  "That is sadly very true, but I knew what I was in for when I accepted Lesto's offer to be his deputy. It is being High Commander that grants me so much luxury, so I cannot find it in me to complain too much."

  Kamir turned to smile at him again, laughing softly. Jader barely remembered moving, too lost in savoring the startled gasp Kamir fed him before going pliant in his arms and returning the soft, easy kiss. When they eventually drew apart, Kamir touched his tongue to his top lip and said, "Is this your idea of paperwork, Commander?"

  "I really had planned on showing you the papers," Jader said with a laugh, "but don't expect me to complain about a change of plans if it involves clothes coming off."

  Kamir snickered and drew him into another kiss, and when they broke apart that time, it was only so Jader could lead him back inside and to the bedroom.

  He noted Kamir's gasp as he saw it, but he was vastly more interested in dragging Kamir into bed and making himself the sole object of Kamir's admiration.

  Two hours later—and officially late—Jader reluctantly disentangled himself from a sleeping Kamir and went to get cleaned and dressed. Once more High Commander, he checked on his guest one last time, ignoring the urge to kiss him goodbye or fuss with the blankets or brush back the strands of hair draped across Kamir's face.

  But out in the hall, he paused to speak with his guard. "Have a servant summoned. Tell them Lord Kamir will needed suitable dress to dine at the High Table tonight. Kamir's caretaker, Miss Velina, should be able to handle the matter. Have it all brought here, along with a bath once Kamir wakes."

  "Yes, Commander."

  "And quit smirking."

  Not even bothering to smother the smirk rapidly turning into a grin, the guard replied, "Yes, Commander."

  Jader playfully gut-punched him and strode off.

  The military matter in need of attending was an assembly of his commanding officers, as well as all mercenary captains, and other critical persons involved with the imperial army. It was time to formally announce the appointment of his provisionary deputy. He'd also be announcing Lesto's role as supervisor while he was gone, since despite his and Sarrica's best efforts, Lesto had insisted and blazed through all attempts to stop him.

  Though he was nearly forty minutes late, he wasn't terribly surprised that the Secondary Hall lacked Lesto and Sarrica. Everyone else in the room was milling about chatting or reclining on the benches that ran around the edge of the large hall used for announcements not quite important enough to convene the council and court in the grand hall.

  On the dais at the back of the hall, Captain Dennar Rega stood speaking in low tones. She laughed loudly at something Dennar said, then turned just as Jader reached them. "Greetings, High Commander. We were starting to think you'd decided to abandon us this evening." She winked. "Not that I would blame you, if palace rumor is even half true."

  Jader lifted his eyes to the ceiling. "I should be used to the swiftness with which rumors spread around this place, but it constantly impresses me—or rather terrifies me." He started to say more as Dennar and Rega chuckled, but the doors opened again, and they turned as one to watch as Lesto, Sarrica, and four bodyguards walked the length of the hall to join them.

  A nearby servant rang a bell that echoed deep and long, and those few not already falling into place at the High King's arrival quickly scrambled to do so.

  "Commander," Sarrica drawled, and waved him to take position in the center of the dais, he and Lesto stepping back to stand at his right and left.

  Jader skimmed the room, taking in the mix of expressions: curiosity, annoyance, jealousy, trepidation. "Merry evening. You know full well why you've been called here, and I'm certain you'd all like to get on with your evenings, so I'll keep this brief. I am departing for Benta in two weeks, to be gone for at least a few months, possibly through the end of the year, at the request of Their Imperial Majesties. In my absence, I am appointing my Deputy High Commander, to be supervised during her provisionary term by Lord Lesto."

  He motioned to Rega, who stepped forward to stand next to him, and presented her with a ring—a signet almost exactly like his, though it was made of silver, not gold, which meant she did not have quite the same level of authority. Once she'd passed her provisionary term, that would change.

  "Officers, Captains, comrades, I present to you Rega Halon, our new Deputy High Commander!"

  The cheering and clapping was near-deafening in the echoing hall, and he was gratified that most of the faces in the crowd looked pleased. If a few looked bitter or unhappy, well they had every right to their disappointment. It was a highly coveted position, and bets had been going for months on who Jader would finally appoint.

  Many a purse would undoubtedly suffer that night, since no one could have predicted a woman from a minor garrison that he'd only met a week ago.

  As the noise quieted, Sarrica stepped forward to emphasize he supported them fully and he wouldn't be tolerating misbehavior in the ranks while the High Commander was away and the Deputy was learning her new duties. Those who didn't take his admonition seriously changed their minds when he reminded them Lesto would be supervising.

  Jader still wasn't happy about that, but the only person more difficult to out-stubborn than Sarrica was Lesto.

  As the formalities ended, the officers came up in ones and twos to offer congratulations and promises of support, and nearly three hours passed before the hall emptied, leaving only the four of them.

  "Last chance to escape while you can," Jader said to Rega.

  "Oh, I think it's a bit too late for that," Rega replied. "My husband and dame have already spent every penny to our name outfitting our suite and themselves." She winked. "My fate is sealed. I'm officially too poor to go anywhere else."

  Jader snickered.

  "They sound like they'll fit in perfectly," Sarrica said, and clapped her and Jader on the shoulder before stepping past them. "Now I am off to see what remains of dinner in the banquet hall. Would anyone care to join me?"

  All of them cared to, as it turned out and, flanked by Sarrica's bodyguards, they made their way to the hall.

  The hall was not quite as full as it would have been an hour or two earlier, but all the most powerful players were present, none of them willing to leave until Allen had departed.

  At the High Table, Allen sat facing the hall with Shemal on his left, Tara on his right, and Kamir right next to Tara. Kamir looked surprisingly comfortable, given how miserable he'd seemed back in the office, and absolutely breathtaking dressed in scarlet and gold.

  As he drew closer, however, Jader realized most of Kamir's relaxed demeanor came from the way he was speaking with Tara about children—specifically, that Tara was several months pregn
ant and unusually nervous despite various and constant reassurances.

  Whatever Kamir had said, however, seemed to be helping, because Tara looked less miserable than he had in some time. And the rest of his misery would probably fade once Rene returned.

  Jader removed his sword belt, hooked it over the back of his chair, and dropped down next to Kamir. "How has dinner with this insufferable crowd been?"

  Before Kamir could reply, Shemal replied drolly, "How like a Belarigo to try and look impressive by insulting the rest of his community."

  "How like a Variago to speak so others can't hear."

  Allen's mouth twitched as he replied, "How typical of you both to start acting like children the moment you're together and have an audience. You're as bad as Sarrica and Lesto." His lips curved into a true smile as Sarrica and Lesto cast him affronted looks. He glanced at Jader. "It would be exceptionally rude of me not to translate for our companions."

  Jader shrugged. "What's to translate? Shemal said I'm trying to make myself look good by deriding the rest of you, and I said he's being rude in a way he thinks he'll get away with."

  Kamir muffled a laugh behind his fingers, and Lesto merely rolled his eyes and thanked the servant who approached with a cup of beer and a plate heaped with food.

  "How was the ceremony?" Allen asked.

  "Seemed to go well," Sarrica replied. "Anyone disgruntled won't dare open their mouths too wide for at least the first month. By then, I'm sure we'll all be in the mood to start cracking heads. I'm surprised our Bentan guests are not here."

  Allen lifted one shoulder. "I hinted strongly tonight was not a good night for them to join us, and they should in fact give Jader some space as he prepares to bid us all farewell. I think they do appreciate the imposition, both to Harken and to Jader personally, for all they are clearly determined and impatient to have their way. They're also not stupid, and know what price they will ultimately be paying for this favor." He didn't look very sorry about it, but he seldom did when the game pieces were moving according to his desires.

  Jader thanked the woman who brought him food and drink, content to eat as the rest of the table conversed, happy to be surrounded by friends and his new lover, the unwelcome visitors well out of sight, and no immediate problems screaming in his ear.

  Given it was the last peaceful day he was going to have before he left, he couldn't have asked for a better one.

  Chapter Nine

  Kamir hummed softly as he worked steadily through piles of paperwork. He enjoyed making watches and clocks, but serving as an estate guardian made him cautiously happy in a way he hadn't felt in a long time, save regarding his children and buying a house.

  He might owe the guardianship position to Jader, but the skills he possessed for it were his own, hard won under years of schooling, Velina's tutelage, and looking after his own little family. It made him tentatively proud of himself, and stirred something that felt like confidence. Whatever happened after Jader returned… Well, he was starting to truly believe that maybe, just maybe, he really could manage on his own and his family would be all right.

  Finishing with the estate financials he'd been looking over, Kamir set the ledger aside with some notes for his secretaries and moved on to the extensive lists of repairs, changes, and other requests that were significant enough to require his approval before they could be enacted.

  "Lord Kamir." It was Niale's level but worried tone that made Kamir look up sharply. "There's an imperial clerk requesting an audience."

  Panic struck Kamir like a fist, his hands trembling noticeably as he set down his pen. 'Imperial clerk' could technically refer to any one of a hundred different positions, but it was generally used to refer to the clerks of the imperial court, and when one of them paid an unexpected visit, it was never for a good reason.

  That would teach him to let down his guard, to feel confident and happy for even five minutes.

  "Send them in. We're not to be disturbed until they leave."

  "Yes, my lord."

  Kamir fought tears. He'd been dreading this day ever since the unpleasant dinner with Theoren nearly a month ago. His family and Theoren had left him alone, practically treated him like he didn't exist, which guaranteed they were up to something. Hopefully they weren't colluding.

  If an imperial clerk had come to see him, it could only be about Theoren's threat. If it pertained to the estate, he would have been expecting that and more likely summoned by the Master of Lords.

  The man who stepped into his office was short and thin, so small he looked like a brisk wind would knock him over. He pushed his spectacles up his nose and bowed politely. "Lord Kamir Norring?"

  "Yes," Kamir said. He beckoned the clerk closer, eyeing the sealed packet of papers he held, his breakfast churning in his stomach and threatening to come back up.

  Approaching the desk, the man held out the packet. "I am serving papers of a challenge submitted to the court by Master Theoren Masterow for custody of Chiri Norring and Chara Norring. Do you accept the papers?"

  Kamir nodded and managed to bite out, "I accept." He took the sealed packet, signed the paper that said he had received it, and rose to follow the clerk out of the office so he could shut and lock the door. Returning to his desk, he broke the seal on the packet and pulled out the papers.

  Tears got the better of him as he read through the challenge, everything Theoren was claiming made him an unfit parent—most notably, that all this time, since well before their divorce, he and Velina had been involved in an affair. That Velina herself was a bad influence, it being well-established she continued to practice unpleasant Island traditions…

  That should something happen to him, his children would be left without a suitable guardian—and as the man who had sired them, and having come far in the eight years since they divorced, Theoren wanted custody of the children wrongfully denied him by a sloppy court.

  Kamir frowned, pulling out a kerchief to wipe his face. The charges were somewhat troubling on the surface, but the more he thought about it, the more they largely seemed frivolous. It was all stuff he could fight, especially since he had copies of all the paperwork from the divorce and first custody battle.

  Depending on the judge who got stuck handling the matter, Theoren could find himself facing punishment for wasting the court's time. Or was Theoren forgetting that he'd married Kamir when he was only sixteen, at a time when the law was changing and no temple should have agreed to marry them? It was the main reason the courts had sided so heavily with him. The High Court would be no different.

  Kamir kept reading, shaking his head at each accusation added to the pile—until he came to the last one.

  That he was further unfit because his family was in the process of disowning him.

  And the paperwork didn't need to spell out that if his own parents no longer wanted to acknowledge him, how true must the other charges be, what else might not be said, perhaps he really was an unfit parent.

  That was Theoren's play—to give the court sufficient reason to conduct an investigation, which would drag on for months and months at the pace the courts moved. And every month it took was time and money that Kamir didn't have. Even with the money he'd received from Jader for managing his estate, he would not be able to afford both moving his family and fighting a months-long court battle, never mind the strain of the investigation itself as court officials picked apart every nook and cranny of his life.

  But why? Theoren certainly didn't give a damn about the children. He hadn't been happy to learn Kamir was pregnant. He hadn't been there when they were born, hadn't gone to the temple on their naming day three months after that. He'd signed away rights without even having to be persuaded past the assurance that he'd get all the money from the sale of the house and their mutual belongings.

  If the challenge went badly, and the worst came to pass, Kamir would lose his children—but Theoren wouldn't gain them.

  And how had Theoren known about the disownment? The initial petit
ion might have been filed with the court, but his parents had done it so discreetly even he hadn't known it had been done until this moment.

  Kamir stared at the copy of the petition that was with the other exhibits, tears falling anew. One thing to know it would someday happen. But to see the paperwork, his parents' signatures, his mother's elegant hand as she explained that'd he'd become a burden and a drain, had always been unreliable…

  It would take months to go through, since disownment required investigation and other formalities. But he hadn't thought they'd be so proactive about the matter.

  Dropping the papers on the desk, Kamir went into the private washroom in the office to clean his face and tidy his hair.

  When that was done, he locked the papers in his desk, opened the office door again, and got back to work. He needed to finish going over the requests, and hopefully could then authorize the housekeeper to start the process of hiring the additional staff she'd requested.

  So much for a relaxing evening. He'd be lucky now if he didn't get out of the office late, then there was dinner at the High Table, which he couldn't bow out of, then he needed to spend what remained of the night finishing a desk clock he needed to turn in tomorrow… and now he had to find somewhere to start compiling his case against the challenge.

  He took a deep breath. One thing at a time. First, finish up his estate duties for the day. Then he'd sort out the rest.

  Unfortunately, the role of estate guardian always took more out of his day than he planned, and by the time he finally escaped the office, he had only just enough time to dash across the palace to dress for dinner then race for the banquet hall.

  And that was yet another problem on his teetering pile: he had clothes fit enough for the High Court at the low level to which he was accustomed. His wardrobe was not prepared for dining regularly with the High King and Consort, and ordering additional clothes required still more money and time that he simply didn't have.